CHRONICLES OF A SNIPER
by Quicksilver915
Summary: Five years after the events of Path of Radiance, Shinon leaves the Greil Mercenaries to embark on a quest of his own. As he searches for fame and fortune, he encounters a evil unlike anything he had ever knew existed.
1. Prologue

_**A/N :**_ _Hello there! I began working on this story years ago and stopped, never having finished it. Now, with all my work deleted on some computer I don't even have anymore I decided to start from the beginning with a fresh brain with hardly anything but the story concept to rewrite perhaps one of my best works. For the purposes of this piece, please consider the events of Radiant Dawn null and void. Also, as you all know I don't own Fire Emblem or it's characters. Original Characters will be included in this tale._

 _Enough commentary, here's the story!_

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 **CHRONICLES OF A SNIPER**

 **PROLOGUE**

It was a dark and quiet night in a small uninhabited forest in Crimea. One adventure had long since been over, and another was soon to begin. It had been five years since the Greil Mercenaries had saved the continent of Tellius from the Black Knight, the evil King Ashnard, and the Daein army. After this great quest, most of the Company was content retiring to the shadows to silently do the work cheap mercenaries who protect the weak from the strong, and uphold justice without the law in a land of the prominently lawlessness.

MOST of the Company had no problem fading away after their brief mark in history, but there was one member in particular who was not content with becoming a small name, all but forgotten, in a significant section of history that he would never truly be credited for. This particular mercenary had never desired to protect the weak or save the world. For this talented, albeit arrogant individual, personal wealth, fame, and legacy was far greater than then the naïve goal of "making the world a better place".

Shinon, the Crimson Archer of the Greil Mercenaries had never been interested in the quest to save Queen Elincia from the tyrant dictator Ashnard. He had never even been truly loyal to the commander of the Greil Mercenaries, Ike. Shinon, in all honesty had a great loathing to the spoiled son of a once great mercenary and at one time even aimed his bow to kill the now Iconic War Hero. In that particular battle, things didn't go the way the red haired sniper had intended, the soft Commander spared his life, and Shinon switched to the winning side of History in the name of self-preservation and to live to fight another day.

Now, five years later, in a dark and quiet forest on the outskirts of Crimea, the sniper made his mind up to leave in the dead of night. He was severing his roots with the Greil Mercenaries to find his fame and fortune elsewhere. As Shinon moved quietly through the brush, it wasn't long before he heard the footsteps of a large armor clad man behind him. The mercenary stopped, rolled his eyes, and spoke to the figure tailing him.

"You are by far the loudest and clumsiness oaf I have ever had the misfortune of sharing fine wines with. You didn't really think you could sneak up on me, did you?"

Shinon turned around to look upon the large muscular, and handsome knight covered in shiny blue armor. Gatrie smiled as he looked back at his friend, fully accepting the fact that stealth was never his strong suit.

"So you're just leaving without so much of a good bye or anything, then?" he asked his comrade and longtime battle buddy.

"Ugh," Shinon grunted in disdain. "Our time with Ike and his merry men of do-gooders has made you soft, Gatrie. Since when do warriors like ourselves take time to put on a dress and say our good byes to each other as if we're star-crossed lovers? We're Men, and Men need Purpose. Our "fearless" Commander may be content with saving kittens from tall trees and finding an old grandmother's lost wallet for the payment of a freshly cooked meal but I crave much greater adventure, glory, and wealth. After five years of mind numbing boredom, it is clear I won't find it with this company. So I am out."

"I couldn't agree with you more." Gatrie said as he moved closer to his best friend, "Which is why I am coming with you. Besides, if you're gone who else would be my drinking buddy?"

"Whatever." Shinon responded as he continued to walk away. "Just don't slow me down. Seriously Gatrie, you may be talented with a lance but you're such a softie under all that rusty armor!"

As the two walked away from the Greil Mercenaries' hideout, Shinon smiled to himself. He would never admit it in a million years but he was grateful that Gatrie had joined him on his new adventure. The two spent the greater part of the past fifteen years looking out for each other. Whatever perils and evils was ahead of the sniper, he was comforted to know his best friend had his back.

Shinon didn't know then how fortunate he was…..because soon he would be facing perilous danger unlike anything he knew existed.

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 _I treasure your thoughts, readers! If you took a moment to read this prologue please take another and let me know what you're thinking! I will update soon. Stay Classy._


	2. Just Another Bar Fight

_**A/N:** Here it is! My first chapter, I hope you enjoy it! It contains all a man's favorite things...beer, battles, and beautiful broads! A special thanks to the guest Ale for providing me with my first review...reading everyone's thoughts is the absolute best part of writing fanfiction! Ale was a Guest, so I couldn't message him directly...but if you're still reading I look forward to seeing more of your thoughts and thanks for the encouragement! _

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**CHAPTER I**

 **Just Another Bar Fight**

Three weeks had passed since Shinon and Gatrie had left the Greil Mercenaries. It had been long and uneventful weeks. The duo had traveled across the providence of Crimea stopping at many bars hoping to find something of note, but alas, aside from their cups, everything was dry. Their nights would always end up the same. Lots of drinking, saying the wrong thing to the wrong guy, getting into a fight with said guy, and that particular guy (and sometimes his friends) leaving the bar that night needing medical attention. Neither Shinon nor Gatrie cared to admit it, but three weeks of bar hopping and no work was wearing on their stash of gold coins. This lifestyle could not be kept up for much longer.

The sniper and knight found themselves saddled up at the bar in the local pub of a little town called Rustall. While Gatrie was drawn more to the lofty, ornate, and luxurious spots, this rusty, hole in the wall, establishment was Shinon's perfect scene. The tavern was packed full of many loud, rugged and battle torn sellswords, all of which hoped to find their purpose and peace at the bottom of numerous mugs of ale and mead. The barkeep, a shifty and portly old man, probably in his forties, though he looked as if he was in his eighties, and smelled as if he hadn't showered but maybe once since his twenties.

"You know, we can't keep doing this." Gatrie spoke barely, his words slurred so much that bystanders may have taken him as a visitor from a foreign land, who held only a loose understanding of the English language. "If we drink all our money…it'll be gone…and then we'll have no more drinks."

"It is astounding how profound and deep you get, eight ales in." Shinon sneered at Gatrie, as he gazed deep into his own golden ale. "I am aware the reality of our current economic situaton, obviously…but something will come up!"

As the two continued to drown their sorrows in drink, the loud voices of a small band of mercenaries at a nearby table were heard. They were a motley crew, wearing tattered armor and clad with weapons so rusty it was clear the most danger they would present in a real battle would be the danger of Tetanus. Each of the four mercenaries had a tattoo of a black sword somewhere visible on their body. This insignia made it abundantly clear that they were part of the Mercenary Company, the Unforgiving Sword.

Two years after Ike and the Greil Mercenaries saved Tellius from King Ashnard and his tyranny, their company faded into the shadows of Fame until their legacy became the talk of legend and myth. As their company left the light, many other gangs of warriors stepped in from the shadows. At the top of this list of mercenaries in Crimea was the Unforgiving Sword. They were known as proud and ruthless warriors who never considered ethics or honor when it came to getting the job done. Their specialty was battle, and made the majority of their income from joining the armies of nations and shifting the balance of battles, and sometimes even wars, to the highest bidders. On the battlefield, the mark of the Unforgiving Sword had become a symbol of fear to those that opposed them, but in a tavern as the mercenaries enjoyed casual drinks…Members of said group had become very famous among every day patrons of the bars.

"…And that's how the four of us took out an entire fleet with nothing but two swords, a rope, and our feral spirits!" One of the Sword Mercenaries spoke loudly to the three bar bimbos that had joined their table to listen to their recounts of glory and peril.

"Wow, you're all so brave!" One of the drunk blonde floozy's spoke as she put her hands around one of the mercenary's arms. "What's a girl to do around such manliness?"

"Well, you know what they say…" The mercenary with the interested broad draped around his arm spoke as he nuzzled closer to her. "The Unforgiving Sword is the most notable, strongest, and most skilled band of the greatest mercenaries since the great Warlord Ike himself!"

Shinon coughed a little, as some of his ale had got stuck in his throat as he began to laugh at the mercenary's ridiculous claim. The loud rumbles of dozens of conversations began to grow faint, as all eyes fell upon the table of "famous" mercenaries, and the chuckling Shinon.

"Are you okay there, friend?" One of the sellswords spoke in a threatening tone to the sniper which didn't at all reflect the base of friendship.

"Oh excuse me." Shinon regained his composure, but still lacking any filter he once had before three beers. "It's just that last statement you said was so funny to me."

"Oh yeah?" Another one of the Sword Mercs spoke, as they all eyed each other with the enraged excitement of a prospective individual to beat down. "What's so funny, Mr. Comdian?"

"I don't know what's more funny to me…." Shinon responded as he put down his drink and pushed it towards the bartender. He saw where this conversation was leading to, and he wanted to waste as little ale as possible. "That you would consider that little pup Ike a "Warlord" or "great" or that you consider your little gang of misfit thugs skilled and strong!"

There wasn't a peep in the entire tavern now, as the four mercenaries slowly rose to their feet and moved into Shinon's close personal space. The ring leader of the bunch, with a belt full of small iron throwing daggers leaned in close to the archer's ear and whispered loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Are you saying that you're tougher then the four of us? And before you answer, maybe you best think about how we out number you 2 to 1 if you count your drunk pal over there that is one step away from blacking out."

Shinon's eyes looked past the burly ruffian to Gatrie, who was staggeringly to grab his lance which leaned against the wall near him. He was of course trying to be discrete, but Shinon knew that in his current state if the knight got into battle things could get ugly real quick. Sure, he could handle the mercenaries easily, but as drunk and clumsy as he was Shinon predicted Gatrie may take out a civilian, and he might even hurt himself, which would bring unwanted attention that the two wandering adventurers didn't need.

"Gatrie." Shinon whispered, "Let me handle these punks got it? It'll crush their pride more if I whip all of them without any help…and I can't wait to see the look on this smug's face when his ass is on the ground looking back at my smiling and handsome face."

Gatrie grunted in agreement as he placed his lance back down, it almost fell to the ground. The ringleader of the Sword pack pushed Shinon out of his barstool and exclaimed. "What did you say about me, boy?"

"I said…" Shinon spoke, as he quickly regained his footing and found himself surrounded by all four mercenaries. "That you and your cute little squad of junky pack rats are less threatening then a piglet with a knife strapped on its back."

And with that insult, the fight began. The two mercenaries behind Shinon grabbed his arms and attempted to hold him in place as the other thug equipped his iron knuckles and went to swing at the archer's cocky face. Shinon quickly ducked the left fist, which landed onto his right captor, and then swiftly dodged the right hook which met the mercenary on the left. In a split second, Shinon then kicked the shins of the men holding him hard enough to break their bones, which led to them falling to the ground and letting the red haired warrior regain the use of his arms.

"Is that all you got?" Shinon taunted the mercenary wielding the knuckles, who then began throwing more punches at his advisory. Shinon blocked, ducked, dodged, and move swiftly until he was able to catch one of the punches, break the man's finger, and yank the iron knuckles off his hands. Then, the crimson sniper put the knuckles on his own right hand and punched the man hard in the face, knocking him out and onto the ground.

It was now just Shinon and the Ring Leader, who had taken a few steps back away from the former solider in the Greil Company. The thug in the Unforgiving Sword would never admit it, but it was clear now that the man he picked a fight with was clearly a far superior warrior then him. However, in bar fights one does not just give up when the other man is a better fighter, one goes to the next obvious tactic…swift, sneaky, and deadly force.

The brute reached to his belt to unbuckle a throwing dagger. Shinon quickly saw this threat and took off the iron knuckles and from an impressive distance threw the weapon into the center of the mercenary's head with the precision only a talented and skilled sniper could wield. The thug cursed loudly and bent forward, grabbing his bloodied skull. Shinon then rushed forward and tripped the man, and fell flat on his butt. As the back of his head hit he ground, he looked up to see Shinon standing over him, with is leather boot placed firmly on his stomach.

"There, that look on your stupid face." Shinon said, his arrogant smile covering his face, "That's exactly what I wanted to see."

The man struggled, but Shinon kicked him hard in the stomach and continued to speak as he knelt over the hurting man. His knee now pushed into the man's chest, almost completely immobilizing him.

"You want to know a secret?" Shinon spoke softly, now whispering in his defeated opponent's ear. "Everyone is always so quick to talk about "the Great War Hero _Ike_ of the Greil Mercenaries" and his stunning victory over the Black Knight but _Nobody_ takes a moment to consider the man that was hiding in the trees taking out the legions of men that meant to kill him as he rushed into battle like a foolish child…Fifty-Eight, that's how many men yours truly killed so Ike could kill his one enemy and _HIS_ name is forever etched in history…..Well, now maybe you will have a story of how a _REAL_ war hero handed your ass to you next time you and your buddies go out drinking."

As Shinon prepared himself to get off the defeated foe, the man in the Unforgiving Sword attempted to pull another dagger from his side to cut Shinon down. The sniper foresaw this attack (as it was a tactic he may have done himself) and stopped the knight, took it from the man, stabbed him in the leg, and then Shinon punched the sellsword hard in the face knocking him out as his blood was running onto the wooden floor.

The bar was dead quiet, now every man was fearful and respectful to the unknown warrior who had just easily defeated four of their celebrities. Even the bar floozies were to scared of Shinon flirt with him. They simply stayed seated and quiet. Shinon smiled, proud of himself and his flawless victory. He then reached into he unconscious man's pocket and withdrew his wallet.

"See, I told you Gatrie." Shinon withdrew all the gold coins in the wallet. "Things will work out."

The archer looked up to see his partner unconscious at the bar. It took him twelve drinks, but Shinon knew Gatrie would be out for a good while. As he rose to take care of his friend, Shinon stopped and turned around to an isolated table in the darkest corner of the tavern. The table grabbed his attention because there sat a lone man in a black cloak, slowly applauding the Sniper's victory.

"My, my, my." The unknown man spoke with a voice like snake, "That was most impressive. If it's money you want, perhaps we can share a drink? I have a job for a man like you.."


	3. A Shady Job from a Shady Man

_**A/N:** Special Thanks to **Hammershlag** and **HybridInterpreter** for dropping me some encouraging reviews since my last updates! I really value your inputs and I hope to hear more from you guys! (As do I hope to hear more from the rest of you as you read this story!)_

 _Thanks all for reading, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!_

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 **Chapter II**

 **A Shady Job from a Shady Man**

Shinon moved towards the table with the mysterious man and took a seat next to him, as the patrons of the bar began to leave the establishment. The brutal beatdown Shinon left their heroes left many with a sour taste of the night, and their buzz had been killed. Meanwhile, the barkeep grumbled something under his breath as he began to scrub away fresh blood from the wooden floor about Shinon negatively impacting his tips for the night.

"Allow me to introduce myself…" The man in the black cloak spoke, his voice soft calm, and very creepy. "I am Morphus of the…"

"I don't really care." Shinon interrupted the older man, and waved his hand impatiently. "Get to the important stuff. What do you want done, and how much money are you willing to pay to make it happen?"

"So impatient…" Morphus critiqued as he sighed. "Very well then…I have been looking to dispose of a certain elusive Sorceress for quite some time now. I have recently gotten word that she has been imprisoned by a certain band of mercenaries in the forest not far from this very town and if I can strike now, I can finally rid myself of this wretched magic user that insists to meddle in all my affairs. No doubt the Sorceress sensed my presence nearby and _allowed_ herself to be imprisoned as a rudimentary form of protection from my wrath, but a stealthy sniper like yourself could sneak into the camp quickly and dispose of her and be gone before the Company ever gets the whiff of blood."

"So you want me to sneak into a mercenary's camp and kill a woman for you?" Shinon repeated the mission out loud to the dark man.

"Well, it will be heavily guarded and I predict there will be a fair amount of danger involved. If you're not up to it, I am sure I can…"

"How much money will you be paying me?" Shinon once again interrupted.

The man withdrew a small dark purple pouch from his cloak. Shinon observed that the hand holding the pouch was wrinkly and slightly shriveled up. The archer hadn't picked up on it before, but now he analyzed the man to be older. It was clear that this man was not of the age to freely sneak into an enemy's camp and kill a wench for himself, hence why he was looking for help in a hole in the wall tavern. (Little did Shinon know in this moment, who exactly he was speaking to…)

The old man let five gold ornate tokens fall out of his pouch. Shinon saw the tokens to be valuable, but only five? The degree of danger involved was hardly worth it. The sniper snorted in disgust at the offer, and rose from the table to leave.

"Wait, wait wait!" Morphus spoke with a tone that implied he was once again annoyed by the archer's impatience. "Don't be so hasty to judge the importance the value I place in accomplishing this task. Five of these tokens aren't enough for your services? By all means, take the whole pouch!"

Shinon stopped moving, turned around, and picked up the pouch from the table. He poured the tokens into his hand, counting thirty-seven. This was a small fortune the old man was offering him! Shinon smiled, greed radiating through his entire body.

"Morphus, that's what you said your name was, right?"

"That's correct…"

"Alright hen Morphus, where might I find this magical woman I am about to kill?"

Morphus shrugged as he took a sip of his tea mischievously. "I really don't know for sure."

"A creepy guy like you doesn't have the means to figure out these details?" Shinon taunted the old man.

"I suppose I could if I wanted to." Morphus responded, showing no acknowledgement to the red head's rude remarks. "But I don't need to…it turns out that the men that took the Sorceress belong to the Unforgiving Sword."

Shinon smiled wickedly as he now knew how he could easily learn the whereabouts of this doomed Sorceress. He put the money in his pocket, and turned around. His eyes looked down to he floor nearby, to notice the fallen member of the Unforgiving Sword who he stabbed in the leg earlier. The warrior had leaned himself against the bar, and was licking his wounds cursing as he considered the events of the evenings that transpired.

Shinon walked over to the wounded warrior and kicked him hard in the leg that was stabbed. The man cursed loudly and looked up at Shinon with fear filling his once arrogant eyes.

"Hey there, Piss-face!" Shinon taunted the defeated man, "Unless you want a left leg to match your right, you're going to tell me where the rest of your mercenary buddies are camping out at!"

"Oh I'll gladly tell you where to find the rest of my company." The mercenary coughed in pain as he managed to get the words out. "Because I can't wait for them to catch you and tear you apart! My leader's in a league of his own…you think you're hot shit now but…"

"Less useless talk and more important information please!" Shinon interrupted as he stepped down on the dagger that was still lunged into the man's leg.

The man cursed once more, and admitted that he had no idea why he had not yet removed that weapon from his own leg. Then, he explained in great detail where Shinon could find the rest of the mercenary crew in the forest.

"You've been incredibly helpful." Shinon said after listening to the sellsword, who now glared at the sniper with even more hatred than ever. "Of course we have a little problem now, don't we?"

"What more could we possibly have to share together?" The man now sounded exhausted with Shinon's torture. It was clear that he had not long been in the mercenary game, and very much wanted to stay away from this vile man he was currently dealing with.

"Well, its quite simple really." Shinon said as he ripped the dagger out of his leg. "If I leave now and somehow you or your friends get out before me and alert your Sword buddies, it'll make my work a lot harder. So I can only really think of one solution…."

Shinon quickly used the man's own dagger to slit his throat. The cut was clean and deep, quickly laying the worthless mercenary to rest. After the lifeless torso fell onto the ground, Shinon's eyes turned to his three friends that now had regained their previous seats.

"If you three know what's good for you, you'll stay at this bar all night and not utter a peep of what I'm about to do to anyone. Of course if you don't mind ending up like your buddy here, by all means try to do something smart."

All three weak mercenaries shook their heads obediently and sunk down to mind their own business and stay out of Shinon's radar. As the archer prepared to leave the tavern to find the Unforgiving Sword camp, he remembered that Gatrie was still at the bar unconscious. Shinon considered waking his friend but he decided not to. It wasn't because he didn't think Gatrie would be a useful addition, nor was it because he was being considerate to his friend in blue armor's feelings. He just didn't want to have to split he money Morphus had given him. Shinon chuckled to himself as he left the tavern. He'd come back for Gatrie in the day time, after the job had been completed.

Shinon wasn't the only one chuckling in the bar. Meanwhile, back in the seat in the darkest corner of the bar Morphus sat chuckling to himself.

" _That foolish archer has no idea what he has ahead of him. Will he actually succeed in killing Oceana? Maybe…but I have my doubts. That woman has proved time and time again that even in the simplest places, she is never an easy target…But when he meets the leader of the mercenaries, that boy is in for the fight of his life! Good, I felt my mark in his heart and I know he is one of mine. He's far from the point where I can claim him now…but one day in the future, that cocky loud mouth will belong to me!"_


	4. Good Night, Blue Knight

_**A/N:** Here's another chapter, and I think you will find it lighter then how the tone of this story will typically play out! Its nice to have some fluff between lots of blood and guts every now and again!_

 _Special thanks to reviewer Cormag Ravenstaff for his kind, encouraging, and constructive words regarding my story! If you're making it this far in, please feel free to drop a review on your way out! I treasure your thoughts!_

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 **CHPAPTER III**

 **Good Night, Blue Knight**

Gatrie's vision slowly returned as he awoke from his blackout. He had been sitting passed out on the same bar stool for hours. As the buzz of the beer was subsiding, it had quickly been substituted with a throbbing headache and brief flashes of previous events that had transpired.

There was a brawl…started by Shinon, of course. The muscular knight surveyed the tavern for his slender friend, and quickly realized the sniper was nowhere to be seen. Gatrie wondered, should he be worried? The former knight shook his head, as the idea of more drinks entered it. He knew his friend could take care of himself. Shinon was probably out on a quick errand, which hopefully involved bringing back food.

The blonde haired warrior in heavy royal blue armor waved his gauntlet with the hopes of getting the barkeep's attention, and while he was doing so he noticed a beautiful woman sitting not far from his left. She had light brown skin and bright blue eyes, a rare but attractive mixture. She had short black hair. Normally Gatrie was not a fan of females with short hair, but this woman could pull it off. She wore all black clothing, with no weapons at all. The man obsessed with beautiful women survived this female, his eyes noticing every detail of her perfectly fit body. Her head turned and their eyes met as she noticed him noticing her.

"So…" Gatrie said as he moved a couple chairs closer to the lady, "You look like you're a girl who knows exactly what she wants."

"Maybe…" She said in a soft, flirtatious tone, "And you look like a man that can give a girl exactly what she needs."

Gatrie blushed at the forwardness of this beautiful individual before him. Truth be told, he frequently hit on girls, but he was not as used to them "hitting back." A terrible thought crossed his mind, so he quickly voiced his concern to her. "You're…you're not a prostitute are you?"

The maiden chuckled as she took a drink from her wine and responded, "No, definitely not. Though my former partners have often said I had the skillset needed to be a very successful one. I don't know…I could always use second opinion, if you catch my drift?"

Gatrie's eyes widened as she smiled, took his hand, and led him upstairs to the tavern's second floor. This particular establishment had a handful of bedrooms that were meant to be safe havens for patrons who had too much to drink that night, but very often the rooms were used for various other activities.

The mocha colored minx led Gatrie into the bedroom and had him sit on the edge of the bed, as she moved behind him and started to undo his breast plate.

"Ohh, you feel so tense." She said as she removed the armor and began massaging Gatrie's back.

"I guess you could say me and my friend have a habit of getting ourselves into stressful situations." Gatrie spoke as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the gentle delicate hands across his body.

"Well, let me help you relieve some of that stress." She whispered into Gatrie's ears as one hand moved down his body and the other withdrew from her back a small poisonous dart. With the knight to distracted to notice, the mystery woman jammed the dart into the side of his neck, and Gatrie instantly fell over fast asleep.

"Sleep well for the next couple of hours, stud." She spoke as she got off the bed, her voice less seductive and more mischievous. "You'll wake up feeling a lot lighter, I am sure…As will your pocketbook!"

She then reached into his pants and withdrew his wallet. She relieved Gatrie of what little gold he carried, and she also noticed that there was a small silver medallion with a green emerald at its center. The thief shrugged as she put the medallion in her pocket. She had no idea what it was, but hopefully someone would pay well for it.

The lady in black got off the bed and left the room. For a brief instant she looked back and considered finishing him off, as her assassin training taught her never to leave loose ends. She thought about it, and then decided against slitting his throat.

"I must be getting soft…" She muttered to herself as she left the bar.

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Meanwhile, outside the small town Gatrie was knocked out at, in a dense forest, the Crimson Sniper had finally made his way through the brush quietly and in stealth to the camp of the Unforgiving Sword. Getting to this point undetected was the easy part, but moving past the guarding mercenaries into their outpost to find the Sorceress he needed to kill…Shinon knew he had his work cut out for him!


	5. Shinon's First Shots

**_A/N:_** _I'm excited for you all to read this chapter! I took some creative liberties with Shinon's backstory and I hope you enjoy where I take it. A special thanks again to **Cormag Ravenstaff** for dropping a review regarding the previous chapter! If you like blood and casualities then I think you may enjoy this chapter!_

 _Thanks again for reading. Enjoy!_

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CHAPTER IV

Shinon's First Shots

Deep in the dead of night, Shinon leapt from branch to branch of the large trees making up the Crimean forest. He moved swiftly and silently, as not to alert the numerous mob of low level Unforgiving Sword mercenaries who were wandering the camp beneath him. The crimson archer would hop from tree to tree, until he reached a spot that involved a jump that was impossible for any man to make.

The expert sniper pulled his bow out and tied a tight and sturdy rope to an arrow. He then took the end of the rope not tied to the arrow, and wrapped it a thick branch on the tree he stood on. As he aimed the arrow to his destination, Shinon's mind drifted off to when he was a small boy still learning the ways of the world.

Shinon didn't remember much of his parents. The sniper's earliest memory was of raging alcoholic father that used to beat his mother regularly and throw his empty glass bottles at his son. At the age of nine, Shinon witnessed his parents in an argument so severe, that the father grabbed his mother's arms, threw her towards the wall in the farm house. Unknown to the man in his drunken rage, a large piece of farm equipment with a sharp edge was setting behind his wife. As he threw her into what he assumed was the wall, he accidently impaled her, killing the woman instantly. Shinon ran into the barn as soon as he heard the terrifying shriek of his mother. The young boy gazed upon his father bending over his mother, with her blood on his hands, looking back at his son as if praying that the boy would acknowledge this wasn't his fault. A terrified Shinon, with tear filled eyes, ran out into the night and kept running deep into the night. He didn't stop until his body collapsed in a field not far from a nearby town.

For the next few years Shinon survived on the streets, stealing where he could and being ran out of every town. Most of the decent citizens who saw him scowled at him and chased him away calling him a little fiery devil who was nothing more than pond scum forever sentenced to the poverty of the street. Perhaps just once in the child's life, if one individual had shown him an ounce of kindness, decency, or heaven forbid, _love_ , then the arrogant red haired survivor may have ended up differently…but such humane care was not in the cards for this man.

At the age of twelve in the foundry town of Blackthorne, Shinon had developed the reputation of a town menace, an elusive thief, and an all-around degenerate. At this point the boy had nothing more than a bad temper, a finely tuned sense of survival, and a thirst for always taking what he didn't have. Shinon had graduated from sneaking around and taking what he wanted, to finding the small and thehelpless and in times of desperation, forcefully taking what he required.

Shinon's life began to make the change from prey to predator one day in Blackthorne when he intended to take an old woman's ornate purse, which appeared to be stuffed with gold and precious jewels. Even at an early age, the boy's greed was a force to be reckoned with. As the old woman and the twelve year old struggled over control of the pocketbook, her son, a very large forger with a nasty temper walked out of his house and apprehended Shinon.

The muscular brute threw Shinon to the center of the street and he, along with a few other men of the town that hated the street scum that would attempt to batter and steal from an old woman, began to kick and punch the scoundrel. Shinon was overwhelmed, bled from every direction, and had no way to defend himself. He didn't care, he understood it as a miserable end to a miserable life.

Unknown to him, his act of cruelty was seen by a very peculiar halberdier, one of the likes the world would never have an equal to. In hindsight, Shinon assumed that the legendary warrior was impressed with the boy's ruthlessness, and sought to recruit him to serve in the warlord's ranks.

Shinon remembered a looming figure appearing over his body so quickly that it appeared as if he evaporated in from thin air. The man gently pushed Shinon away from the warriors and the boy's battered body was gently forced back to a wall of a nearby building, where he sat and watched the next events transpire.

Shinon watched as the man took on the group of raged citizens with little to no effort. This warrior had long slick red hair that was tied into a ponytail, and he wore light armor that was all black, with a purple insignia of a cobra on the breastplate. He also had a long maroon cape that danced in the wind as he moved swiftly slicing apart the villagers, using his jet black, larger than usual, halberd. The most captivating aspect of this man to Shinon were his abnormally blood red pupils. To Shinon's adolescent mind, it was as if the man had control of a demon within that gave him superhuman powers. Most folks would have looked onto this figure and feared him, stating his eyes were the product of pure unadulterated evil. Shinon looked into the eyes of the man with the eyes of admiration. This man had something the street urchin never had. _Power._

Watching him murder the townsfolk, Shinon knew this man was somebody important. He knew he could take what he wanted, do what he wanted, and kill anyone who dared to get in his way. Shinon couldn't help but think that maybe if his mother had this kind of power, she could have stood up to his abusive father and never would have met such a terrible fate. Shinon knew his mother didn't have this power, and Shinon knew that this was the kind of strength he craved.

After swiftly doing away with the men that endangered Shinon, and a few authorities that dared to get in his way, the man offered Shinon a chance to come with him and leave his life as a homeless street dweller. The boy was in awe, he could say nothing but managed to nod his head in agreement. After taking the boy into his horse and riding away, the man barely spoke any more to Shinon. He never even gave the child the honor of his name, but it wasn't long before Shinon knew it all to well.

The man took Shinon to begin his training within an organization of hidden assassins known as the Black Cobra. Shinon spent five years with this organization learning a great deal of things from them. The man himself was named Dragos, and he was considered THE Black Cobra. The rest of the organization was created to be an extension of his will. They were a cult of deadly fanatics who were dedicated to serving their master without question.

As the years went by Shinon heard legends of this man. He heard unbelievable stories about how Dragos was cursed with an awful ability where he constantly thirsted for battle to satisfy his bloodlust. The tales told about how with every warrior that Dragos killed, he grew stronger, but he then would crave more power and the blood of stronger foes. Later, as an adult, Shinon credited these as tales to explain away an exceptional warrior, and gave them no thought at all. However, in his time within the Black Cobra, he occasionally would hear of an exceptional member of the Cult who would rise up to battle the Head himself, Dragos, for control of the entire organization. The warriors who challenged the mythic warlord would always end up dead in a battle. Their duels were highly honored in the order, and only the best of the best were allowed to challenge Dragos himself.

While being dropped off by the Lord of the Black Cobra to their hidden hamlet, Shinon never again was able to interact with Dragos. He was given immediately to an old battle-torn assassin who began to train Shinon the art of battle. While training him in the most basic forms of martial arts, the boy was attributed with being exceptionally speedy, nimble, and having keen eye sight. Naturally, the assassins forced him to pick up the bow and learn how to become a superb archer.

At first, Shinon was an awful shot. His teacher claimed he had never seen such awful aim in his entire life. During the first day of his training, the instructor informed Shinon that he was by far the worst archer this particular assassin had ever had the displeasure of discipling. Shinon's hatred for his weakness left the boy fuming with determination to prove his hateful master wrong. He stayed up all night shooting arrows, reopening the cuts on his fingers from the tight bow strings, breaking bows and finding new ones, picking up his loose arrows, and shooting more targets. Finally, after twelve hours of no sleep and archery, Shinon went from an awful shot, to passable in the eyes of the most elite assassins.

Five years of living the life of an assassin disciple was more than enough for Shinon. The more he learned of the organization he had joined, the less it seemed like an honor and the more it seemed like a prison. At age seventeen, just like the boy had once did in the farm house at the sign of his mothers' death, the young archer used his cunning will and survival instincts to elude the Black Cobra. Once he was off the desolate island that held their unknown hamlet of assassins, Shinon knew he would never have to worry about the cult of assassins again. Their laws, set by the Great Dragos himself, stated that if an assassin was skilled enough to escape Cobra Island he or she was allowed their freedom.

That dark silent night deep in the forest, within the outpost of the Unforgiving Sword, Shinon smiled to himself as he readied his bow. He thought about how far he had come in the past years. He was no longer that fearful and frail boy who stood defenseless in the middle of a road. He wasn't an adequate cult assassin who could bare hold a bow right. No, now he was a force to be reckoned with, and now that he severed his ties with the Greil Mercenaries, it was time for the Crimson Archer to shine.

Shinon released the arrow perfectly across the forest and watched as it's steel tip sunk fiercely into the bark of his desired destination. Shinon then quickly untied the bow string, and used his bow to zip line down the tree to the other side of the outpost. Once he landed, he quickly retied his bow with a spare string he had in one of his pouches. It was a perfect move, it not been for an unforeseen act of nature.

As Shinon was gliding in the night, one of the drunk Sword mercenaries threw the rest of their ale into the camp fire which created a small and quick rush of an inferno that ignited upward. The mercenaries looked in wonder as the fire subsided, and then in the relatively close vicinity, they noticed Shinon gliding to the base of a tree near their tent containing their very high profile prisoner.

"What do we have here?" One of the mercenary thugs spoke as he pointed out Shinon landing onto the ground, as the sniper turned and looked back at the motley crew. "It looks like the Witch has an attempted Rescuer."

Shinon smiled, as he counted seven half intoxicated men, all heavily armed. "Would you believe me if I told you I'm here to kill your prisoner so you could have your way with her lifeless corpse, the way that only sickos like yourself could enjoy?"

Sneering at the insult, another one of the mercenaries withdrew his long sword and rushed towards Shinon. "Not a chance you cheeky bastard!"

"And Gatrie says I never try to reason with people before weapons are drawn…" Shinon muttered as he began shooting arrows at his enemies. "I tried to reason with them, now I guess I'll provide this pitiful mercenary company a reason to get some new recruits."

Shinon's first two arrows went straight through the hearts of the two men at the campfire that withdrew throwing axes. He had no idea how accurate they were at their projectiles, but the sniper didn't care to find out. 2 down. Shinon then waited for the man running towards him to swing his sword. Shinon used his steel bow to block the blade, then he whirled around the swordsman and hit him hard in the stomach with his bow, knocking the sellsword to the ground. Then the archer shot two more arrows forward to the large man getting up with a battle axe from campfire. The first arrow hit him in the chest, and seemed to have little to know impact on the fat fella. The second arrow landed n his eye, and silenced him forever. 3 down. Shinon then heard the distinct sound of strings being drawn back as archers in the cover of the night sought to take out the crimson mercenary. Giving into his battle instincts in a swift moment, Shinon thrusted upward the swordsman he had just knocked down to use as a human body shield to take the two arrows into the chest. 4 down, 3 to go. Shinon then thought hard about where he had seen the arrows flying towards him from in the dark forest, and after a moment's consideration, he shot two more arrows again, one to his left, and one to his right. Immediately after the arrows whizzed away, the sniper grinned confidently as he heard the sounds of two men screaming their last scream. There was only one mercenary left.

Shinon gazed upon the young blue haired man who held his hatchet in a hand that nervously shook. The young adult, perhaps no older than twenty fumbled backwards and then turned around completely and rushed away into the night. Shinon readied another arrow to finish the youth off, but decided against it. He was so close to the woman he came to kill, he knew that he'd be done with the mission and could escape into the shadows before the boy had the chance to call for any more help…Time would show Shinon how incorrect he actually was in this moment, and perhaps he should have killed the young trembling fellow.

Shinon turned his attention to the tent he was now entering with the woman he came to murder in his sight. The sniper couldn't help but chuckle at the irony of the situation. Years ago he had run away from the life of an assassin to find fame and fortune elsewhere. He realized now as he considered the ornate foreign gold currency that was bound to be worth a bundle to the right buyer in Crimea. For the right price Shinon was completely okay with occasionally returning to his assassin roots.

The sniper drew back his bow and prepared to do what he came to do…


End file.
